Welcome to Paradise
by DiscombobulatedCanadian
Summary: Yet another tale about Matthew, well Matthew - Canada - and Francis - France. Matthew is having a bad day and Francis comes over unannounced. WARNING: Strong Language
1. Chapter 1

**Welcome to Paradise**

**Matthew (Canada) and Francis (France)**

There was never a time that Matthew could recall feeling so lousy. Not once. He clicked off the television and slumped down in the couch. Thinking that maybe if he did it long enough … just maybe, he would sink into the cushions and fall into an alternate universe where his country was not so immensely disgraceful. Or, if he was lucky, did not exist.

Even with all of the attention being received because of the 2010 G20 Summit, everyone was still able to overlook the reality of his situation. He was broke, his deficit was in a terrible state and even when things seemed to get better, they got horribly, _horribly_ worse. And his people were lazy! Too busy with their own problems to deal with political issues!

The front door creaked open and Matthew panicked, quickly shoving aside his problems and focusing on the beer, vodka, cigarette butts and overflowing astray that were sprawled along the coffee table.

With the speed of a rampaging moose he swiped the waste into a garbage bag that was lying on the floor next to mess, tossed the bag into the kitchen and ducked into his bedroom.

**_ Boy Does Life Suck. As Our Precious Matthew Would Say: FML _**

"Mathieu? Mattie are you home? _Sacrebleu_! It smells awful!"

Francis's eyes trailed along the floor until they crossed paths with an empty vodka bottle on the carpet. He gasped and shuffled over to it, pinching the bottle between his index finger and thumb and lifting it off the floor. He examined it, not a single drop left.

"Mattie? He called, a little worried.

**_ Boy Does Life Suck. As Our Precious Matthew Would Say: FML _**

It was Francis. Of all the days that the horny ass nation had to visit why did he have to choose such a bad one? Matthew tugged his shirt over his head and slipped his arms through. The pressure in his chest from all the cigarette smoke was killing him, he needed to cough, but if he did that-

"Mattie?"

He was getting closer.

Matthew dashed into the bathroom and rushed for his toothbrush. In two swift movments he drew a line of toothpaste on the brush and mutliated his tongue. Trying desperately to remove any traces of his morning binge. Just as his hand began descending to the hot water knob, Francis walked into the room. Matthew smiled and the toothbrush fell onto the counter.

"Mathieu! _Mon amis …_ _pourquoi_?" Francis asked, clearly disappointed.

Shit! He must have seen something. Matthew wiped away the white foam ring from his mouth and tried to look innocent. He blinked distraitly.

"_Quelle_?"

Francis quirked an eyebrow and pulled an emtpy vodka bottle from behind his back.

Shit!

Busted.

There was no lie that could save him then, not with the proof so blatently rubbing itself in his face. If he was disappointed in him then, Matthew could only imagine his reaction to the thirteen other bottles and four empty cigarette packs. Was it four? Okay, so five. He could practically see the French man collapse from the over exposure of learning about Matthew's ways of dealing with emotional stress. There was only one thing to do.

"It's not mine," Matthew said, though it sounded more like a question than exculpation.

Francis shook his head and raised a hand. He beckoned to Matthew with a wiggle of his index finger and the lowly boy drifted over. Eyes averted. Kumajiro plopped down next to Francis's leg and rubbed his head against the older man's leg.

"_Salut_, _ours blanc_. ___Comment____ça______va_?"

"___Ça va bien, et toi__?" Kumajiro replied. _

_ Francis shrugged. "Eh … ____Comme ci, comme __ça_."

Kumajiro got back on his hind legs and trotted away blithely. He was happy that come one had come to take the drunken fool out of his home. Now he and Ca- Ca? Who? 'Ca' who? The bear huffed; it didn't matter. The weird blonde who smelt so badly of alcohol and suicide was going to be kicked out by Mr. France.

Kumajiro froze for a moment, a brilliant idea manifested into his mind. He would thank Mr. France with a fish; a big ol' trout from up the river. Kumajiro started up again and made his way towards the back door.

**_ Boy Does Life Suck. As Our Precious Matthew Would Say: FML _**

Francis simply stared at Matthew, waiting for him to state his reason, but Matthew said nothing, he was too enveloped in shame.

"You better explain to me, Mathieu, why you would do something so … stupid."

He couldn't quite explain it; it was like a flare was lit inside of him. Matthew glared up at Francis and the taller man took a step back.

"Mathieu-" he began.

"Don't you call my name!" he shouted, "I did nothing wrong! You- you drink all the time and because I do this _I _am stupid? If anything, maybe you should look at yourself and see what a fucking drunk you are!"

Francis growled, "_fermer la bouche_! This-" Francis shook the bottle in front of Matthew's face, "is dirty Russian vodka! Do you dare compare wine to vodka? Wine is the drink of gods and goddesses! Wine is an eloquent and illustrious drink! Vodka is for dirty mongrels … it is a _piss _drink!"

Matthew struck Francis on cheek. His violet eyes were narrowed to angry slits as he glared at his elder. He had no clue why he hit Francis, but the frustration bubbled and bubbled until it could no longer contain itself and overflowed.

Francis felt his muscles stiffen; he was shocked. Did his cute, little Mattie just _hit _him? Francis slid the bottle onto the counter and went over to embrace Matthew. His arms held the boy firmly and, despite his thoughts, Matthew did not fight back – he accepted it and returned the gesture.

"Mathieu what is the matter?" he lulled.

Matthew buried his face deeper into Francis's shirt. His voice was muffled as he replied, "it's a long story."

Francis put his arms on Matthew's shoulders and pushed him back, he did not let go. Matthew looked up at him, and away, to the floor.

"Tell me," Francis ordered, his voice gentle.

Matthew nodded, no longer resisting.

**_ Boy Does Life Suck. As Our Precious Matthew Would Say: FML _**

A blush worked its way up Matthew's face, the room smelled disgusting. It was like he stepped into one of Author's pubs after a football (soccer) game. Vodka and smoke burned his lungs and he coughed. Hard.

Francis gaped. "Dear goodness, Mattie! What have you done to yourself?"

"I didn't do anything! It's my stupid people!" He snapped. Francis frowned and Matthew apologized, his voice was barely audible.

"Let us go outside. You can explain to me what is the matter in the _clean_ Summer air."

**_ Boy Does Life Suck. As Our Precious Matthew Would Say: FML _**

Francis leaned forward in the patio chair and urged Matthew to tell his story. The boy nodded and took a breath.

"Okay. The reason why I've been … overdosing, I guess that is what one would call it, on alcohol and cigarettes, is because my country _sucks_. It fucking sucks, Francis! Do you know what it feels like to have a country that sucks so badly that it makes you sick – literally? Those damn Olympics and the G20 Summit have taken up so much money! And do you know what else? My Prime Minister thought it would impress other world leaders by creating a giant, _expensive _indoor lake! A _lake_! Do you know what one of the things, Canada is famous for? One of the things that is hard _not _to find here: lakes, Francis! They're everywhere! Yet the bullshiter fuck lord – pardon my language – is building a _lake_! What the fuck is that?

"More and more of my greenery and forests are getting ploughed down so that malls and houses can be built but why? Why do I need any more of those? There are already too many! The government is spending money on bullshit and not necessities!"

Matthew didn't know he was crying until Francis dabbed his cheek with his handkerchief and it came back wet. Francis smiled at him.

"You have all the reason to be upset, Mattie, and you still have me and my wonderful people-"

"No I don't!" Matthew interrupted. "Your damn people are trying to leave me! They want to become an independent nation! Of all of my provinces, Quebec is the most annoying!"

Francis sat silently, pondering what to say, when Kumajiro hopped up the patio stairs, a large trout locked between his jaws. He hissed at Matthew for a split second and presented the fish to Francis triumphantly.

The French man petted the bear and took the aquatic creature from him. Kumajiro sat in place, he locked eyes with Francis. Francis looked away awkwardly and Kumajiro responded by climbing onto his laps and nuzzling his nose into the man's crotch. The French man froze and Matthew watched bug-eyed.

Kumajiro licked Francis's neck.

"I love you. Breed with me," he murmured.

Francis's eye twitched. "_Q-q-q-q-quelle_?" he croaked.

"_Breed_ with me you sexy man beast!"

Neither Kumajiro nor Francis noticed Matthew leave. They did not know he returned either – that is, until a hockey stick launched into the bear's side and he shot into the air, over the fence, into the forest.

Francis craned his neck to face Matthew. "_Merce_."

"I don't know what has gotten into him. I'm sorry, eh."

But Francis shook his head and answered, "it is fine. … Mattie?"

"Yes?"

"I want to make you happy!"

The smaller blonde's eyes darted from right to left before settling back on Francis. He gave him a quizzical look and the French man further explained.

"I want to pamper you! We will visit a spa and buy you clothing and make you _beau_, _qui_, _qui_! You will be truly irresistible! Like _moi_!"

Once Francis snapped out of his dream world, he noticed Matthew pulling back the screen door to his house.

"Mattie are you listening to me?" Francis hollered.

Matthew spun around and gave his senior a sceptical look.

"I am serious!"

"That is ridiculous, Francis. There is no amount of treatment that could make me look … pretty."

Francis shot up from the patio chair and snatched Matthew by the wrist. His free hand went skyward, he jerked Matthew forwards.

"Look up!" The French man barked. And Matthew did so.

"Do you see that?"

Matthew focused in on the empty blue sky; nothing but clouds and the occasional bird. He shook his head and replied in French, "_Non_." Hoping it would somehow calm Francis down but Francis shook him violently.

"_A-arr____ê__t_!" Matthew wailed.

"Do not look at the sky!" He stopped shaking him. "Look _beyond _the sky!"

Matthew pressed his free hand to his forehead. Trying to seize the spinning. When it slowed down he looked back at the sky. Still nothing. Beyond it? Well … more sky.

"I don't get what you want me to see," he whimpered.

Francis broke his eyes away from the sky and put them on Matthew, a little annoyed. He bit his lip and huffed.

"Mattie, beyond the sky is the stars, the beholders of dreams. My dream is for you to be happy and I believe that if you look good you will _feel _good as well. I also believe that you wish to feel good. Let us do this together. It will be fun!" He was practically begging.

Matthew's shoulders slumped. He knew that Francis wasn't going to drop the subject, and the more he refused the more Francis would pry. It might stretch on for so long that Francis would go to the lengths of tying him up like rodeo cattle, flinging him into the backseat of his own car and forcibly making him over – Francis style.

"Fine," Matthew grunted.

Francis's face lit up and he tightened his grip on Matthew's wrist.

"Let us go!" he squealed and hauled Matthew to his car.

_Sacrebleu _- Dammit

_Mon amis …_ _pourquoi _– My friend … why

_Quelle _– What

_Salut_, _ours blanc_. ___Comment____ça______va __– Hello, white bear. How are you_

___Ça va bien, et toi __– I am good, and you_

___Comme ci, comme __ça _– I am okay (not exactly but it means the person is neither goor nor bad)

_fermer la bouche _– Close your mouth/Shut our mouth

_Merce _– Thank you

_Beau – _Beautiful (Masculine, meaning only used for boys)

_Qui_ – Yes

_Moi _– Me

_Non _– No

_Arr____ê__t _– Stop

**End of Part I! **

**My French classes are finally coming in handy! Woot! XD**

**Thanks so much for reading this! I'm not really good with authors notes so again … **_**Merce**_**! **


	2. Chapter 2

Okay so ... I think chapter is a bit choppy because I'm exhausted. (*sigh*) That's what happens when one has a baby brother that wakes up at _anytime _in the morning and screams: "Wake the feck up and tend to me _now_!" But yeah … anything in italics, I'm guessing you may have figured, is in French. Translations at the bottom. Thank you for reading this

**Welcome to Paradise**

**Matthew (Canada) and Francis (France) **

Matthew peeked at Francis through the corners of his eyes. The French man's attention was devoured by the road. Matthew expelled a heavy sigh; there was a burning feeling inside of him. It was saying, "Y'know, buddy, I don't think this is going to end well, eh. Maybe you should just do what you're thinking and pull that little handle there …." Matthew's eyes drifted over to the handle of the passenger door. It would be so easy to just curl his fingers around it and pull. What was it that humans did in such situations? Once the door popped open did they jump? No – jumping was too careless, it would be safer to duck and roll. Matthew shook the thought out of his head before he could will himself to do something stupid.

Music! He told himself happily. He would just turn on the radio and drown in the music, forget the stupid ordeal Francis was about to put him through, silence Kumajiro's interminable thumping from inside of the trunk. It was kind of uncomforting to think the tiny polar bear was alone in the dark, cramped space. If anything he would ask Francis to pull over and let Matthew take him out, put him in the backseat instead, but Francis was still shaken by the very 'intimate' moment he and the bear shared earlier. He refused to let Kumajiro come along if he was anywhere _but_ in the trunk.

Matthew spun the volume dial and music started booming.

"What are you doing?" Francis asked, his focus never veering away from the road.

"I don't know … listening to music I guess," he replied.

Matthew eased back into the seat and closed his eyes. The music stopped abruptly and his eyes slid open. He caught a glimpse of Francis' hands moving away from the dial.

"What the heck, Francis! I was listening to that!" Matthew growled.

"Oh, well boody-boo-boo-hoo," he mocked. "Do you not understand, Mathieu? You need to focus!" Temporarily removing a hand from the steering wheel, Francis tapped a finger against his temple and put the hand back. "You must take the time to focus! Do you know what I did when I saw you come to the car? You remember, after I told you to change and come back wearing something decent _et pas terrible_?"

Matthew shook his head. "_Non_,_ j'aime excuse_."

Francis exhaled. "You should be sorry – but for yourself. When you stepped outside of your home and I saw you I threw up in my mouth and felt my conscience shed a tear. _mon garcon_, you have such terrible taste … it makes me want to kick a puppy I am so frustrated!"

'Kick a puppy I am so frustrated?' Oh. Matthew thought about correcting the comment but he decided against it. And besides, what did it matter what he wore? No one ever saw him; Matthew could walk right onto a busy street in his birthday suit and no one would notice. If anyone hit him they'd probably think something along the lines of: _damn, hit a deer._

"I don't dress that badly," Matthew argued.

"Oh, but you do!"

"What's so bad about a sweater and jeans?"

There was a silence. "Nothing if you wear it occasionally. Inside of your house. Where you cannot be seen. In the basement. Alone."

Francis turned into the parking lot of a small airport – it was actually a field but there was a plentiful amount of cars parked on it so Francis saw no issue.

"You're really rude sometimes, Francis." Matthew muttered and twisted his body to face the window.

**-_- Boy Does Life Suck. As Our Precious Matthew Would Say: FML -_-**

Kumajiro's kicks were becoming violent, tiny welts were sprouting on the metal. Matthew started for the trunk of his car when Francis called to him.

"Mathieu you … you … um … you have a cage right? For the bear?" He stuttered nervously.

Matthew shook his head, he couldn't bother with cages. They were too troublesome. And even if he did what would Francis expect him to do with it? Lock poor Kumajiro up for fancying him? That idea alone was more ridiculous to Matthew than the makeover. He snorted and inserted the car key into the trunk's lock. Just as he went to twist it Francis' hand clamped down on his wrist and tried to pull it away.

"_A__rr____êt, __Mathieu! ____S'il vous plaît__! __Arr____êt__!" He wailed. _

_ Matthew tried to push him off but he was wrestled to the ground, arm still clutching the key. Kumajiro's thrashing became frantic. He was going to break a hole through the car! Francis didn't seem to notice that, though. He was sitting on Matthew's stomach and trying to yank the key out of the hole. Francis positioned himself so that his foot was right under Matthew's chin. He was kicking him! Well he wasn't really ____kicking __him, per say. It was more that Francis was trying to push his head back. _

_ With his foot. _

_ Under Matthew's face. _

_ With enough force to make a brick wall collapse. _

_ "Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow! MAPLE!"_

_ Matthew clawed at Francis' leg and Francis hissed. _

_ The welts on the trunk were becoming larger. _

_ "Francis stop it you're hurting me!"_

_ "Then let go of the key!" _

_ "Kumajiro needs to come out! He's been in there for five hours!" _

_ "Then get his cage!" _

_ "I don't have a cage!" _

_ "Then that is just too damn bad for you!"_

_ "Francis!" Matthew barked._

_ "Mathieu!" Francis snarled. _

_ "Let go!" _

_ "Fuck you!" _

_ Francis used one last burst of energy and kicked the small Canadian. The boy went soaring across the field. , Matthew bounced and flew, he looked like a stone against water and Francis couldn't help but smirk. _

_Boom! _

_ The ceiling of the trunk could no long take the assault. It broke open and a very sweaty Kumajiro appeared from the giant gash. Francis froze, staring in disbelief at the bear as it rose._

_ "____Mon dieu __…." _

_ Kumajiro scoped the area and he stopped suddenly at the sight of Mr. France. His breathing became heavy and Mr. French took a step back, quickly spinning on his heal and bolting in the other direction. Kumajiro jumped down and chased after him. _

_ "Come back! Let us breed together!" Kumajiro yelled but Mr. France didn't stop. _

_ Mr. France slipped on a muddy patch of grass and smashed into the earth. This was his moment! Kumajiro knew that his new sexy man beast would need assistance and he would happily lick his wounds. _

_ He drew nearer and leapt into the air. The bear landed on Mr. France and the man began to push him away. _

_ "Go away! Mathieu, ____mon amis__, Help me! I am sorry if I offended you! Help me!"_

_ Matthew was just beginning to recover from his little trip. He heard Francis calling to him, there was too much dirt on his glasses for him to see but he followed the helpless screams. Crawling gingerly. _

_ Kumajiro had a mouthful of Mr. France's pants; he was tugging them off of his thighs. The bear noticed Ca- Ca- Who? The person who was stinking up his house? Him? Yes, it was him: Stinky Man. Stinky Man was coming toward them and Kumajiro could see his efforts coming to an end. _

_ "Stop doing this, you crazy bear! I do not want to breed with you! Release me!" _

_ Kumajiro was getting annoyed by his yelps. He let go of the fabric and bit Mr. France's crotch. Mr. France screamed. _

_ "____Mon dieu__!____ Mon dieu__! It is trying to ____rape __me! Help! Mattie help!" _

_ Matthew stood up and wiped the dirt from his lenses the best he could, but clumps of it were caught in cracks. Cracks? Dear Jesus his glasses were broken! Matthew slipped them on – everything was so distorted – and scanned grassy area. There was something flopping on the field, a white blob atop it. He grunted._

_ Francis could feel the tears fleeing his eyes when he saw his beautiful Mattie approaching. His pants were at his ankles and the crazy bear was only seconds away from moving to his briefs. _

_ "____Merce, mon Dieu__! ____Merce__!" _

_ Matthew stood above him, face painted with a wicked grin. He didn't try to demagnetize Francis from the bear or command it to stop. In fact, he laughed, flipped him the bird and walked away. _

_-_- Boy Does Life Suck. As Our Precious Matthew Would Day: FML -_- _

"_Bienvenue à Paris_, Mattie," Francis said with a chipper edge to his tone.

It was pretty irksome that he could so easily forgive Matthew. Why is it people never got upset when he wanted them to?

They walked into Francis' Paris home, it was smaller than Matthew expected, then again, Paris did not seem like a place that would fit a big house.

"Where am I going to stay?" Matthew asked as he put Kumajiro onto the couch.

About two minutes after Matthew left them in the parking lot to tussle, two security guards shot Kumajiro with enough tranquilizing darts to keep him out for days.

"The room down this hallway here. The bathroom is right next to it, please take a bath and relinquish yourself from that dirt and stink … they are clogging my pores."

Matthew shrugged and disappeared behind the wall.

He had to admit, the bath felt nice and he didn't feel so aggravated anymore._ Maybe the trip was not such a bad thing after all. Matthew toweled off, wrapped the white linen around his hips and went back into his room. He unzipped his suitcase but there was nothing there. Nothing save his toothbrush. ____Everything__, his clothes, his brush, his boxers were gone… where the fuck did his clothes go? _

_ "Francis? Francis?" He called desperately. _

_ He heard the front door open and shut, Francis walked into the room. He smiled and Matthew couldn't help but notice the bags that he had clutched under his arms. _

_ "Francis are those my clothes?" Mathew asked. _

_ "____Qui__!____Nouveaux__v____ê__tements_!" He chirped.

"_Pardon moi_?"

Francis placed the bags on the bed and hugged Matthew. Very pleased with himself for taking the initiative to kickoff Matthew's make-me-feel-wonderful makeover.

"Where are my clothes, Francis?" Matthew asked, monotone.

"Burnt, ashed _et _trashed!"

Matthew balled his fists into the collar of Francis' shirt, body trembling. His vision flashed red and he tightened his grip. "W-what did you just say?"

"I have burned your clothing and bought you new, refreshing clothing to be admired in. Please be happy, Mattie! I did this for you!"

Mathew inhaled, exhaled and let the French man go. He closed his eyes, thinking happy thoughts, he said, "Francis, go away."

"But, Mattie-"

"Francis," he breathed. "I want to _kill _you right now. I want to pull out all of your stupid blonde hair all at once and stomp on your face until it is unrecognizable. So help me, God, if you don't get out now I might just. And if not," Matthew glared at Francis through his eyelashes, "I will smash every bottle of wine you have and inject Kumajiro with so many hormones-"

"Alright, fine I will go! I was only trying to help …"

Francis left the room, closing the door behind him but came back and opened the door slightly. "Mattie I am sorry. And … um … I made us an appointment at the spa for tomorrow. Please rest, Matthew. I will see you in the morning. _Bonne nuit_."

"Leave me alone."

Francis hadn't meant for him to get upset. He was trying to make Mattie happy but instead Matthew got angry. It probably was a bad idea for him to drag the boy to Paris and force him into getting beauty treatments and such. What was he thinking? Francis should have just hired a psychiatrist to help him deal with his problems. Francis pulled his hair back into a ponytail and climbed onto his bed. Arms wrapped tightly around his knees.

There had to be a way to make Mattie smile. Then the idea hit him like a ton of bricks! What better way to cheer up a down Canadian than to help him gain better understanding? If Francis could help him understand then everything would be perfect. He jumped off of the bed, snuck past the bear, giving it a menacing look as he passed, out the door and into his car. Francis needed a video camera. One with very good quality. HD to the extreme!

_-_- Boy Does Life Suck. As Our Precious Matthew Would Day: FML -_-_

_ Francis shook the Canadian boy lightly and Matthew's eyes fluttered open. Francis caressed his cheek and smiled. He would make things work this morning for sure. _

_ "Morning," he cooed. _

_ Matthew sat up, feeling for his glasses but Francis placed them in his hand for him. _

_ "What do you want?" Matthew snarled. _

_ Francis hadn't noticed the cracks in Matthew's glasses until the boy put them on. His posture slumped and he felt as though he might have something to do with it. Of course he didn't, though, but he felt like he did. _

_ "I want to apologize for being such a lousy comrade. You forgive me do you not, Mattie?" _

_ "I guess, whatever," he sighed. _

_ Francis wriggled his nose. "You need to brush your teeth, Mattie." _

_ Matthew glared at him and pointed to the door. "Get out." _

_ "Oh, but I cannot! We have to go to the spa today! Go and brush your teeth ____please __and I will pick out your clothes for you." _

_ Matthew looked him up and down; he pressed his palm to his mouth and questioned Francis. "It is nothing to promiscuous or provocative is it? Wait … do those words mean the same thing?" He scratched his head. _

_ Francis shook his head, "I am not sure and no. Nothing of the sorts." _

_ "I trust you," Matthew yawned, looking away from Francis. _

_ "Good, now say cheese!"_

_ "What?" _

_ Francis took a picture of the Canadian. Step one complete: complete! _

_END OF PART II_

_Now I really want to thank my French teachers, they are so useful! And This chapter was kind of a filler that I couldn't help but add more Kumajiro France action in :P Thanks again for reading! Oh, and I tried to fix the transition quote, I hope it shows up this time. It didn't bother in the last chapter. _

_et pas terrible _– and not terrible

_non_,_ j'aime excuse _– no, I apologize

_mon garcon _– my boy

_a__rr____êt – __stop___

___s'il vous plaît – __please _

___mon dieu __– my god/god (depends on how you want to interpret it)_

___mon amis – __my friend _

___merce __– thank you _

_bienvenue à Paris _– welcome to Paris

_qui _– yes

_nouveaux__v____ê__tements _– new clothes

___pardon moi __– pardon me _

_et _– and

_bonne nuit_ – good night


	3. Chapter 3

_**AUTHOR'S NOTE! (Please read =_=)**_

Okay so I… am an idiot -_-. Turns out my French teachers were not so useful – not really. I kind of screwed up on my verbs and spellings on some (okay, a lot) of words. Yeah, and a very kind person took their time to translate for me (I love you!) so I fixed that. No more other language mistakes (stop laughing at me French people! I may live in Canada but it means nothing XP). Right, so, yeah, my mistakes have been corrected! Also, I noticed that the website is posting the chapters all weird like. I mean italics in parts where there shouldn't be and clumping words together. *Shakes head* It's only ever me. Thank you for reading this!

Francis had Matthew remove Kumajiro and padlock him into his room. Whilst he did that, Francis hooked the video camera's USB cable into the flat screen. As he waited for Matthew to return, Francis pulled a black hoodie from beneath the coffee table. He turned the television on and sat on the loveseat, popcorn in hand.

Matthew analyzed himself in the mirror for what felt like the thousandth time. He was not comfortable _at all_. The outfit Francis picked out for him consisted of a black t-shirt that ended just beneath his hips. A train of golden buttons went down the right side, from his shoulder to the end of the shirt, and they had no particular meaning. And what was worse, it was tight, the fabric was literally hugging his torso. If the shirt wasn't bad enough Francis had to add the skinniest skinny jeans known to mankind and checkered converse.

It wasn't that the outfit wasn't nice, because it was. But Matthew felt trapped inside of the clothing. He sighed and headed for the living room, locking the door behind him.

"Sorry, Kuma," he mumbled.

Francis had his legs propped up on a small table that was nestled before the loveseat. He titled his head back to look at Matthew and smiled with pride. The Canadian made a face at him and looked away.

"_Bon_, Mattie! You look very good!"

Matthew punched him in the back of the head.

"_Sacrebleu_! Is that how you treat the man who bought you new glasses?" Francis hissed.

Matthew eyed his suspiciously and grunted. "You don't even know my prescription."

"I got the optometrist to find the strength of your glasses, Mattie you must forgive me. I have set up our morning so that we could have an enjoyable time."

He pulled a small rectangular box from his pocket and presented it to Matthew. The boy's violet eyes shifted from the box to Francis who was giving him an apologetic smile; his face reading 'please accept this'. Matthew sighed and took the box from him. He removed the lid and he couldn't believe it.

A pair of black-rimed glasses, with rectangular frames stared back at him. He plucked the gift from its box and turned it in his fingers. There was a small red maple leaf engraved onto the edge of the left frame. They were beautiful.

"Well …?" Francis pressed.

Matthew met the older man's curious gaze.

"Why did you-"

"I thought it was the right thing to do. ___S'il vous plait__ put them on." _

_ Matthew slid the broken glasses off of his nose and replaced them with the brand new specs. The edges of his lips pulled slightly. _

_ "Thank you." _

_ "I was nothing." Francis patted the empty seat next to him and practically sang, "come, things are only going to get better." _

_ Matthew _happily obliged and sat next to him. Francis pressed the power button and the television screen flickered from blue to a very cute sleeping Matthew. Matthew's face scrunched up and he whipped his head to glare at Francis.

"What is this?" he screeched.

Francis took his hand. "Quiet, Mattie."

Matthew's face shifted from white to red as he watched himself sleep. The screen shook and Francis' face appeared.

"Salut_, Mattie! This video is for you, I hope you will gain a better understanding so that you may be happy with me!" _

_Francis disappeared and came back into the room with one of Matthew's black hoodies and a pair of his jeans folded over his arm. _

_Francis pulled back the blanket and started to strip Matthew's clothes from his body. _

Matthew's mouth fell open and he suddenly remembered Francis' hand. He pulled his own hand away and put it back in his lap

"What are you doing to me?" He croaked, mortified.

"Calm down I did not do anything to you."

_Francis jumped into the frame and giggled, "look at that body! _C'est magnifique_! Mattie look at how cute you are!" _

_The French man started dressing Matthew with the black hoodie and jeans. He took a picture with his digital camera and switched the casual wear back with Matthew's maple leaf pajamas. _

_Francis ran through the house (crept past Kumajiro) and out the door. He waved to the camera and shut it off. _

_The screen reappeared on the streets of Paris, somebody was holding the camera. It was pointed at Francis who was talking to a woman in French – Matthew couldn't make it out but he got the gist of it when Francis showed the picture of Matthew in his clothes to the camera and let the woman see it. _

_She fainted. _

"What the heck …" Matthew muttered.

"_Do you see, Mathieu?" Francis asked to the camera. "You need help."_

_The video continued on with Francis ripping on Matthew and Paris residents and tourists looking dumbstruck. One man even tried to break the camera._

"Merci_!" Francis took the video camera back. "Okay, Mattie! This is the end of my film! I hope you have learned something from it and will let us have fun for the rest of your trip! Bye-bye!" _

The television screen transitioned to blue once again and Matthew sat speechless. He really had nothing to say, it hurt too much to speak. Was he so fashion … dismissive that these complete strangers had to be so cruel? It may not have physically happened but the Canadian felt himself shrink. Crumpled by the humiliation of it all.

"So you see, Matthew, what I am trying to do for you is _more _than necessary." Francis told him.

He unplugged the USB cable and put his hands on his hips. Francis looked at his watched and his eyebrows peeked.

"Oh! It is time to get going. Our appointment-"

"You're a jerk, Francis."

He gave Matthew a quizzical look. "_Pardon_?"

"Am I _that_ ugly?" he asked quietly.

"You are not ugly, you have my face! Now if you looked like, Arthur then you would have all the rights in the world to feel ugly. Any person with such disturbing eyebrows-"

"He used to be my father you know!"

Francis looked disheartened, he pouted. "So was I! And you treat me so badly!"

"I do not! You just don't know how to treat me!"

"But I bought you all those things!"

"Whatever! You obliterated my other stuff!"

Matthew stood up and went to walk away but Francis snatched his shirt. The French man's eyebrows descended so low that Matthew could barely see his eyes.

"Listen here, I used to be your _papa _also! I am one of the only nations that knows you exist! And I give a damn! So you will march outside and get in that damn car! Right. Now! Do you understand me?"

Matthew swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded slowly.

"Yes."

"Yes _what_?" Francis growled.

"Y-yes, sir." he whimpered.

Francis let him go and before he could say anything else, Matthew was gone.

**-_- Boy Does Life Suck. As Our Precious Matthew Would Say: FML -_- **

"Put on your damn seatbelt."

Matthew did.

"Let me do all the talking, Mattie. Around here, your Canadian French sounds like … how would you put it? … A country bumpkin with an awkward accent."

"Does it really?"

"_Oui_. In fact, from this moment on, you are a mime in training."

"I don't want to do be a mime!"

"Shut up, Mattie. Mimes do not speak."

**-_- Boy Does Life Suck. As Our Precious Matthew Would Say: FML -_- **

It was simple. Do what Francis said and go home. To the comforts of semi-seclusion and maple syrup. Though, he would probably end up getting depressed again, but that would be better than being miserable with Francis. A stout woman led them into a hallway. When she asked about Matthew, Francis happily played the mime story and soon after, they split up.

It was as instant relief to get out of the clothes Francis bought but it wasn't so relieving to have to slip into a robe, naked, and face all of the people that were wandering outside.

There was a knock on the door and

Matthew jumped.

"Y-yes?"

The door opened and Francis appeared, his usual carefree smile planted on his lips. He asked, "Mattie are you ready?"

"I hope so," Matthew dreaded stepping outside of the door. There was bound to be someone out there. "I'm nervous, someone might see me."

Francis snorted, "of course someone will see you! You are in a spa!"

He squeezed Matthew's shoulder and Matthew realized he really had no choice in this. He had already hurt Francis with his comment and if he tried to wiggle out of Francis' suffocating grasp, the punishment he would receive would surely be worse than a day at the spa.

"Right … what's first?"

"Facials!"

Facials? Like, cucumber on the eyes, guava chip dip on the face facials? What was he getting himself into?

**-_- Boy Does Life Suck. As Our Precious Matthew Would Say: FML -_- **

"_Bonjour_!" A tiny blonde woman said as they walked into the room.

Minutes passed and despite what he thought, it was actually kind of not-suckish. There were no cucumbers, but there weird circular pads that she pressed against his eyelids. Though the crème that she put on his face did have a weird scent to it, Francis assured him – when the woman left the room – it was made with mint leaves and not guava.

The day only got more interesting after that. He got a pedicure and a manicure and had to sit mute as the woman tending to his toes and Francis ridiculed him and compared his feet to alligator skin. Like he couldn't understand … so rude.

The massage felt good up until the man treating him started tenderizing his spine and putting his hands a little lower than Matthew would have liked.

The last stop before the end of their day was a room shrouded with mud pits.

"Francis what is …" the boy could practically felt his eyes melt. Francis' dropped his robe and was navigating bare-bottom around the pools.

Francis settled with a large pit in the corner of the room. He sank in and sprawled his arm out on the cool tile.

"Mathieu join me!"

"Eat shit," he snarled and scuttled to the pit that was next to the one Francis lay in. He stared at it. Unsure what to do next. How was he supposed to get in there without being 'exposed'?

Matthew slipped his feet in, feeling cautiously for a step. When he found one, he rolled the edges of his robe in his hands and started in. Peeling the robe higher and higher as he lowered himself in.

It took almost five minutes before he actually got in.

"Why are we in mud? How is this relaxing? I feel … dirty."

Francis rolled his eyes. Something brushed against his leg and ascended to the surface. It was a bubble. He blinked. A bubble? At that moment, more began to surface, one by one.

"Mattie does your tub have bubbles?"

"Eh? Uh …" he looked over the sides. "no. Why?"

Something was _rising_ and it took no time. Just as the French man thought to recoil, a head bobbed and broke out of the mud.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaah!"

Kumajiro opened his mouth and a flurry of mud spewed out.

"Breed. With. Me."

Matthew nearly jumped out of the tub.

"Kumajiro what are you- how did you- what the hell?"

The bear ignored him and dived back into the liquid dirt. Francis tried to escape but Kumajiro had his paws locked around his ankles.

"Mattie! Mattie help me!"

Matthew watched helplessly as Kumajiro pulled Francis back in every time he managed to get a limb out. He _would _help, really, he wanted to, but that would mean letting Francis and Kumajiro see him in the nude. Nothing was worth risking that, not even Francis' animal-to-human virginity.

"Breed with me! I need you!"

"Unhand me! I would never do such a thing with you! Mattie, _s_'_il vous plaits_!"

Kumajiro yanked one last time and the both of them went under. Legs and arms and paws disappeared and reappeared on the surface and after what was too many minutes of watching them fight, a very shaky Francis launched out of the mud clutching his body. Kumajiro crawled out after him and shook the dirt off his fur. He looked a Matthew and the boy flinched.

"I'm hungry," the bear stated and left the room through an open window.

Matthew glanced at Francis.

"Francis what-"

"I do not want to talk about it."

**-_- Boy Does Life Suck. As Our Precious Matthew Would Say: FML -_- **

The padlock wasn't broken, the window was. Somehow, Kumajiro had managed to fight off the tranquilizer, break the window, locate them, do _things _to Francis, crawl back through the window and fall asleep on the bed once again.

Matthew chuckled, he couldn't help but feel a little amused by his pet's actions.

Matthew yawned and for the first time, he stretched without hearing his back crack. So the day wasn't _all _that bad, he had to admit, and if he was lucky, tomorrow would be the same.

**END OF PART iii**

Okay, wow, like I said. Boy do I feel like a fool for having so many incorrect words en Francais (missing the curve on the C in Francais). I apologize for that. Lol, couldn't help but add a pit of KumaFran action XP.

_Bon _– good

_Sacrebleu _– dammit

_S'il vous plait – _please

_Salut _– hello

_C'est magnifique – _it's magnificent

_Merci _(fixed -_- fail to me) – thank you

_Pardon _– pardon

_Oui _(fixed) – yes

_Bonjour _– hello


	4. Chapter 4

**Welcome to Paradise **

**Matthew (Canada) and Francis (France)**

Fear crept in as the lights dimmed around him. Francis felt a chill hug his body and he shivered. Something bad was going to happen …. The French man was just about to shake off the feeling when his bedroom door flew open. Matthew appeared, breathing frantically and trying to suppress the sobs that easily escaped him. Francis ran to him immediately and took the trembling boy into his arms. Matthew tilted his head back, violet eyes rimmed red and puffy.

"_Quel est le problème_, Mattie?" Francis wiped away the tears with his thumb.

"Ku-Kuma-Kuma-Kumajiro isn't- he isn't- he won't stop crying! I-I-I think he- I think he-" Matthew wasn't able to continue, he started crying harder.

It was time to put on a brave front, Francis decided. Fuck the bear! His Mattie needed him, and if that meant jumping head first into a battle with the ferocious creature, so be it! He pressed a kiss against Matthew's forehead.

"Come, Mattie. Show me what is wrong."

The fragile Canadian nodded nonchalantly and whispered, "_Merci_, _papa_. I love you."

"I love you, too, Mattie."

He then took Francis' hand in his own and brought him into the wine cellar. Francis was a bit taken aback by that, not sure why Kuma-what's-it's-name would be in the there but shrugged off the thought.

There was a muffled howl coming from the back of the small room, Francis knew it was the bear. It sounded like it was in pain; when it came into view he could see puddle of liquid growing in length and width underneath it. Francis froze in disgust. Matthew tugged on the sleeve of the man's shirt.

"H-hurry, _papa_ there is no time! He's in pain!"

The bear's head rose slightly and it looked at Francis. It smiled … if bears could smile. If they could that's what it did, but it looked weak and forced. A jolt of sympathy zipped through Francis and he took another step. Another. Another. Until he was stooping next to the small mammal and stroking its fur.

"Oh, my … are you hurt?" he asked it.

Matthew dropped down next to them and hugged the bear. It glanced at him.

"Who?" the words came out like a choked breath and Francis saw Matthew's arm tighten.

"C-C-Cana-Canada." He smiled a smile so sad Francis felt his own eyes becoming moist. "Y-you're g-going to- to be okay, Kumajiro. _Papa _F-Franny i-is going to f-fix you." He dropped his head into the fur on its back, and said, "I-I promise."

And then he started crying again, his body jerked violently. It was too much for Francis to take. He tried to pull Matthew off, the boy fought back, screaming for him to let go but Francis hauled him back up the stairs, put him down on the main floor and locked the door behind him. Leaving him and the bear alone.

As Francis walked back to the mammal he heard Matthew punching and kicking the door, he hoped it would hold. Francis didn't want to have to see him like that again.

"Tell me what is the matter," he ordered the bear, knowing it would reply.

"My tummy hurts," it mumbled.

"Can I put you on your back?" Francis asked; the bear bobbed its head up and down. Francis flipped it onto its back, the stomach was bloated. Too much fish. He chuckled at the thought but the bear's pained expression brought his amusement to an abrupt halt.

"Do you know how I can help you?"

Matthew's banging grew louder and Francis had to fight the urge to run back and open the door.

"Cut it," the bear stated with its paw on its stomach.

The colour in Francis' face drained. "_Non_, _non_," he said with his hands up. "I-I cannot do that."

"P-please …."

It was begging? Francis put his hands up to his face and pulled them away, looking up as he did so. Okay! He would do it. For Mattie. He got up and walked around to one of the smaller shelves. A butchers knife was pushed against the wall; the French man got on his toes and reached for it. His finger touched something cold and he exhaled, curling his fingers around the knife.

"_Pour Mattie_," he reminded himself aloud.

Francis walked back to the bear, clutching the blade in a trembling hand. He got onto his knees; the knife hovered over the stomach. His hand lowered, the knife touched skin and Francis added pressure. The tip broke through and the bear screeched.

"KUMAJIRO!" Matthew wailed from behind the door.

Francis dug the knife in deeper and trailed it down the stomach, ending the incision right above its waist.

"T-take them out," the bear breathed.

"Take what out?"

"C-cubs … take the … cubs … out." Its head lolled to the side.

Cubs? But- but wasn't the bear a boy? It had a boy part. What cubs?

Francis peeked into the open gash, something inside was squirming. No, not something. Something_s_. His hand entered and he touched one of the things. It moved! He yanked his hand back and the bear whimpered. Francis apologized and – with more bravery than he thought he could muster up – pulled at the thing until part of it was poking out.

…

…

…

…

Francis narrowed his eyes.

…

…

…

…

It had a _human _foot? He put another hand in and pulled it out further.

…

…

…

…

The head of a bear and a _human _body.

Francis, disturbed as he was, continued retrieving the mutant babies one by one and was slowly removing the fifth. Just like the others, he had it by its foot but this time the foot was covered in fur and icky baby slime. He almost sang with relief, in fact, he was opening his mouth to do so when he caught hold of the head.

…

…

…

The head was human, more human than anything a bear could produce. And … and it was like looking into a mirror. He was looking at himself in the form of a freakish mutant human bear baby.

"Welcome to parenthood," the bear said deviously.

**-_- Boy Does Life Suck. As Our Precious Matthew Would Say: FML -_-**

Matthew charged into Francis' room, pushing the door open a bit too hard. It ricocheted off the wall and slugged him square in the nose. He squealed and pushed it open with a little less force. Francis was screaming in his sleep, he looked like he was trying to push something away. Matthew, still trying to numb the pain in his throbbing nose, frowned and walked over to the bed. He shook the man's shoulder. Francis slapped him in the face and knocked Matthew onto the floor.

"Maple! Francis wake up!" Matthew called from the floor. The thought of attempting to shake him awake again shook him.

Francis' arms fell back to his sides and his eyes opened. He turned to face Matthew and the boy pursed his lips, staring back.

"You are not crying," Francis stated matter-of-factly.

Matthew shook his head. "Should I be?" He cocked his head to the side.

Francis almost couldn't believe it; it was just a nightmare. A terrifying but _fake _nightmare. "No you should not."

"Um … alright." He scratched the back of his head. "I-I made breakfast. I'm really sorry about yesterday and … what Kumajiro … did."

"N-no. It's fine."

"Okay … come into the kitchen when you're ready."

"Yes, of course."

Matthew got back onto his feet and started for the door but Francis wasn't finished.

"Mattie is your bear out there?"

The boy look over his shoulder, shook his head and said, "He's still sleeping." and continued walking but-

"Mattie?"

"Yes?" He answered, a bit annoyed.

"Can you call me _papa _today?" The older man almost looked sad. "Like old times."

Matthew blushed and stood silently. He bit the corner of his lip. "No." With that he left.

**-_- Boy Does Life Suck. As Our Precious Matthew Would Say: FML -_-**

Francis sat at the table, devouring the pancakes as though he had never had them before. He shovelled the last one into his mouth and swallowed. He nudged the plate toward Matthew who was still hard at work making more flapjacks. The boy looked at him in shock.

"What the heck happened to them?" he asked taking the plate and setting it next to the stove.

"I ate them of course! Mattie those taste very delicious! You must tell me, what they are?"

"Um … pancakes." Matthew told him.

"_Mon garçon_! I have never had food so good!" He beamed.

"Francis?"

"_Oui_?"

"You have pancakes every time you visit me." Matthew wanted to slap him. Every single bloody time the man had his pancakes he had the same reaction. The 'OMG I have never had these before' reaction. It was pissing him off.

"_Non_! _Cela n'est pas possible_! I did not have any when we were in your home two days ago!" How dare Matthew say that he had done such a thing! Surely he would remember the taste if these treats called pancakes.

"That's because you dragged me out of my house before I could," Matthew snuffed, turning away from the stove to glare at Francis.

"Well next time do not let me catch you drinking vodka."

Matthew grumbled something under his breath and went back to his pancake. He flipped it and realized he had an unanswered question.

"Francis why did you come and visit me anyways?" he asked watching the pancake sizzle.

"I just wanted to see if you were okay. I assumed you may have needed some support since the Olympics happened only a few months ago and the G20 Summit is coming up and I am sure you have much more to face. I know how it feels to become overwhelmed by it all, so I just wanted to check on you."

"Oh."

Matthew didn't except that answer. He thought Francis was going to say something about needing to send over immigrants or whatever, not caring. But what would make him not care? As Francis declared earlier on in the trip: Matthew used to be his son.

The guilt flooded over him like a rushing wave. He flipped a pancake onto Francis' plate and handed it to him.

"_Merci_, Mattie," Francis said.

"No problem … _papa_."

Francis knew Matthew hadn't meant for Francis to hear the last word but he did. He kept his smile to himself and left Matthew to tend to breakfast.

Breakfast ended with Francis moping over not getting anymore pancakes and Matthew scolding his elder for causing him so much trouble and abusing his kindness. Though Francis did not see it that way. If Matthew hadn't intended on being used he should have not stepped into the kitchen and started cooking.

The French man took his plate to the sink and dropped it in. It landed with a loud _crack _and Matthew jumped.

"Mattie!" He chirped. "Guess what we're doing tonight?"

Matthew arched his eyebrows and Francis clapped his hands excitedly.

"We're going to eat and party and meet women and have _sex_!"

"Oh, no _we _are not!" He stomped his foot to try and look intimidating but Francis burst out in laughter. Using Matthew's shoulder to keep him from falling over. "I-I'm serious!"

"Oh, my!" Francis gasped for air. "You are so cute!"

Matthew's face turned deep red, "Sh-shut up!"

"Come on now. If I let you stay inside I may as well have left you at home." He ruffled the boy's hair playfully.

Francis' looked Matthew over and smiled. "We are going to go together but you are not going dressed like that. I cannot have you walking around in polar bear," he shuddered. "pyjamas."

Francis excused himself from the kitchen and turned to go into the backyard. Leaving Matthew behind. Matthew punched the counter. Feeling no pain but all fury.

"I hate you! You stupid old snail eating retard!"

**END OF PART iv (part 1) **

**Okay so wow part 1 of part 4 is done! Ya-hes! Only two or three more chapters left. Lol, I think I over shot my chapter guess. But it kinda sucks, every time I post one of these things it comes out in a totally twisted format so I keep changing it -_- whatever. Thanks for reading this dude(tte)s! OvO (OWL XD) **

_**Quel est le problème **_**– what is the problem **

_**Merci**_**, **_**papa **_**– Thank you, father/dad**

_**Non **_**– No **

_**Pour **_**– For **

_**Mon garcon **_**– My boy**

_**Oui – **_**yes**

_**Cela n'est pas possible **_**– That is not possible **


	5. Chapter 5

Dressed in another one of Francis' fancy outfits with his hair gelled back Matthew couldn't help but admit that he looked good and _felt _good. Sort of. He might have felt better if the nosey French man would just lay back a bit and stop fretting. Why he was fretting Matthew did not know, but he had been shaky since he woke up. Muttering to himself that mutants were not actually physical beings of reality but very creepy figments of the imagination. Then he went back to being his weird self.

"We are leaving now, Mattie," Francis said.

He was leaning against the doorframe, looking sharp in his deep blue trench coat and black jeans. Matthew gave him a sarcastic smile, making sure to let every bit of his displeasure drip through and walked past him, brushing the man's shoulder on the way.

The car ride was slow and antagonizing, with very few words being delivered. Whenever Francis did try to start up conversation but Matthew quickly slapped down the silence card and brought the attempts to a hapless end.

"Mattie please talk to me," Francis pleaded as he put the car into park.

Matthew looked out window; it seemed nicer than having to face this man. This man that basically gave him the worst two days of his life; this man that was forcing him into Paris culture; this man that helped to successfully make Matthew feel worse about himself then then he did before.

"Mattie …"

But even so … he was trying so hard. Francis' desperation was a little more than obvious. And oh, how the tables turned. Matthew couldn't help but feel like the bad guy. All Francis was trying to do was cheer him up but it wall like the Canadian kept putting up a wall, blocking off any of the cheer-up bombs that were being thrown at him. Man he felt like such a dick.

Matthew looked to Francis and smiled – a real one this time.

"Okay! I feel like an ass-head, I think it would only be fair for me to stop sulking right? So from this point on, I will enjoy myself!" the boy declared.

Francis' face lit up but as soon as the happiness came, it left. He eyed Matthew suspiciously. "Really?"

Matthew nodded, though he was not sure of his answer, and exclaimed as honest as he could exclaim, "I will have fun!"

"Oh, _merci_, Mattie!"

**-_- Boy Does Life Suck. As Our Precious Matthew Would Say: FML -_-**

The restaurant was actually fun. Francis couldn't stop talking about Alfred and his picky eating habits.

"Do you know, Mattie, when that junkie American came he refused to eat everything! He actually thinks that all French people have cooked frog legs and escargot in their pots and pans! He is despicable! He made me buy a new kitchen set and would not stop watching me cook!"

The rant didn't end there. It kept going, for hours and as much as the Canadian wanted to tell Francis that he kept restating already stated fact he couldn't gather the strength. Not when he actually started taking interest in what Francis was trying to do.

The sun had just gone down and Paris came alive. Matthew was entranced; it was so beautiful.

"Why haven't I noticed this before? Paris is so cool!"

"My boy you have not noticed because you were being such a partyshitter," Francis laughed.

Matthew chimed in along with him, not for the same reasons though. He doubled over, using the headboard as support.

"What is so funny?" Francis asked.

Tears pricked at the corners of the boy's eyes. "Y-your English! You're such a _fail_!"

"_Hmph_! _My _English? 'You're such a fail' makes no sense!"

Matthew patted his comrade's head. "Yes it does. You're just too old to know so."

**-_- Boy Does Life Suck. As Our Precious Matthew Would Say: FML -_- **

The music boomed, lights flickered and the sea of bodies swayed. In the darkness of the club Matthew could see Francis flirting with a group of girls and eventually disappear with them into the crowd.

The cold, bitter anger that left him earlier in the day returned again as he waited for Francis to return. Minutes went by and he remained seated.

"So much for 'together'," he muttered.

The time drawled by until and a very intoxicated Francis manifested. His steps were clumsy and he collapsed onto the chair opposite of Matthew.

"_M-mon cher_," – hic – "What aaaare you doing just," – hic – "just lying here?" – hic – "C-come, let us run off in t-" – hic – "the night and get to know each other a bit b-better."

Matthew flinched back. "F-Francis?"

"Y-yes," – hic – "love?"

"Do you know who I am?"

"_Oui_! You are, my love! I love," – hic – "you!"

Matthew got up from his seat and took Francis under the arms, hauling him up and steadying him before he could fall over.

"We need to go home, Francis. You've had too much to drink."

Francis pushed Matthew away and spit at his shoe. "_Non_! I have no-" – hic – "t had clearly enough to bloo-ba-blah-bleeeeh! Look," – hic – "now you have me incorrecting my Ernglish!"

Matthew slapped his palm to his forehead and dragged the incapable man through the club, out the door and into his car.

Setting Francis in the vehicle was more difficult than expected, numerous times his had 'accidentally' managed to grope the young nation his legs kept 'uncontrollably' kicking Matthew in the stomach. It was would have been so easy to toss him out and drive off but Francis didn't deserve that … not really … that much … okay so he did but Matthew would never do that (and he didn't know how to get back).

"Francis do you think you could direct me back to your house?" Matthew sighed.

Francis reached for the steering wheel and Matthew swatted his hand away.

"Stupid child! L-let," – hic – "I drive!"

"Let _me _drive," Matthew corrected. "And no, you'll kill us."

"Oh," – hic – "you're welcome! I would do that not," – hic – "… _la Lune_! _Elle est belle_!" Francis pressed himself against the window, "Oh, Kurpuka catch it for me!"

"My name is Canada! And it's oh, _please_!" He pushed Francis back into the seat. "Now, come on, I need you to help me navigate out of here and back to your house."

The French man narrowed his eyes in question. "Everyting here is my home!"

"MAPLE! Where you _sleep_, you fucking idiot!" he lunged himself at Francis, grabbed a fistful of his shirt and jerked him back and forth until he could see the dizzy-swirls in Francis' eyes. He stopped, only then understanding the errors of shaking an insanely drunk man and grunted.

"Francis, _please_!" he growled.

"Listen," – hic – "here, Culloonga! Y-" – hic – "ou must not know who I am!"

"Go to sleep."

"_Pardon_?"

"Go to sleep. We're sleeping in the bloody car tonight, you stupid hoser. I cannot stand you like this and I swear to goodness I might just drive us over the Eiffel Tower if I hear your voice again!"

Francis gave Matthew the stink eye and pushed the seat back, getting himself comfortable. He let his eyelids droop until everything faded to black and fell asleep.

**POW! **

**POW! **

**POW! **

It was like a thousand tiny midgets were drilling and pounding and chipping away at his skull. He'd had bad hangovers but this, _this _was re-fucking-diculous. He had Advil in there somewhere. Francis pulled open the glove compartment and the bottle rolled into his hand. He twisted the cap and tossed it onto the ground. Shaking about ten or so of the tiny pills into his hand, he let out a small sound, making his happiness known and popped them into his mouth.

Francis examined the in space; Matthew was sleeping next to him, head resting on the dashboard. He looked so cute! But why were they in his car? Francis removed himself from the car, careful not to disturb the agitated ache in his head, and relocated Matthew to the backseat.

With a turn of his key and a push on the gas, they were off; driving down the painfully loud streets of Paris and back to his home.

**END OF PART iv (part two)**

**OKAY! So this one is a wee bit of a short shot but I am exhausted from exams! DX Second last chapter is officially done! I hope you enjoyed! **

_**RANDOM SIDE NOTE: **_

**So I took a bunch on Hetalia Personality Quizzes and (lol) I think I need to be more of an aggressive person. Kept getting Matthew XP Anywho … that's just my note. **

_Merci _– Thank you

_Mon cher – _My dear

_Oui – _Yes

_la Lune_! _Elle est belle_! – The Moon! She is beautiful!

_Pardon _– Pardon


	6. Chapter 6 LAST CHAPTER

**Last Chapter! If there's no French in this one it's because I'm tired (once again) and felt too lazy to try and use my brain to translate, that and too lazy to translate online … just kidding. I think. I guess it depends.**

**OMG We had an earthquake yesterday! O_O**

**Welcome to Paradise**

**Matthew (Canada) and Francis (France) **

So that was his plan all along that sneaky bastard. Matthew shook his head in disbelief and shoved another bundle of clothing into his suitcase. He was angry but this time there really was no reason to be. No matter how badly he wanted to find one it was impossible. Francis was playing the trump card in his own unique Francis way.

After a whole night to think Matthew discovered the true intentions of Francis Bonnefoy; he made the boy's Paris experience so dreadful because he was trying to teach him about how great Canada was. And when Matthew thought about it, he was crying over nothing. Positively nothing. His house was great and to his liking.

Kumajiro stirred in the sheets, his tail twitched and his body went relaxed again. Matthew giggled; after an extensive Google search he discovered the logic behind the animal's out-of-character behaviour.

It was mating season.

Though he did call Francis a 'sexy man beast' Kumajiro must have gotten some sort of feminine vibe from him. With no Kumajira to help deal with the sexual tension the only other mammal that seemed right to latch onto must have been the long-haired, pretty smelling French man.

On last push and Matthew zipped his suitcase closed.

Francis sat at the kitchen table nursing his head with a cup of tea and a small loaf of bread. His head drooped and Matthew tapped the table edge. Francis' head flew up, his eyes met Matthew's and he grinned.

"That's what you get for taking so many Advil … you should probably go to the hospital and see if they can do something about it," Matthew snorted and got the death stare.

It hurt too much to look angry; Francis loosened the knots in his face and slumped back in the chair.

"Do you need me to drive you?" he muttered.

"No, but thank you. For everything."

Francis opened his eyes slightly so he could see the boy.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"I mean thank you. I guess that I'm just really happy that I ended up coming here. Thank you."

His head throbbed too much to question Matthew any further. He just took what he got and lazed back into the chair. He was feeling so drowsy, two minutes of sleep wouldn't hurt but he still had to help little Mattie before he left.

"Should I call you a taxi? Would that be helpful _ou pas_?"

Matthew poked at the bread with his finger. "It would be helpful."

"Mm."

"You know I was complaining about nothing … every country has their fair share of debt issues and deficits, too. And the G20 is really cool, despite the crazy protestors an their strike-"

"I have those all the time, _mon amis_. They go away."

"I know. Guess what else?"

Francis shrugged. "_Non_."

"There was an earthquake in Ottawa yesterday, and Alfred felt it! A 5.5!"

The French man reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. Without looking, he handed the phone to Matthew and recited the number for the taxi service. Matthew followed along and sighed as he pressed the END button.

"I kind of wish you would be more lively, Francis. I'm feeling really good today."

"If you're trying to suggest I have sex with you, Mattie, I'm too tired."

Matthew's face flushed. "I-I-I-I-I didn't- that's not what I meant!"

Francis chuckled. "It was a joke, Mathieu."

"Oh."

An awkward silence hung in the air, it was disturbed by beeping from outside of the house and Francis winced.

"Bye, Francis." Matthew draped his arms around the older nation's neck and squeezed. The hug was broken by another honk and Francis grumbled.

"_Au revoir_, Mattie."

**HONK! **

"_S'il vous plaits_! Go and make that intruding nose stop!"

Matthew let go and called for Kumajiro. The bear appeared from behind the wall that turned into the hallway and, surprisingly, didn't spare a glace at the French man that was nodding off on the chair.

**^_^ So Life Isn't That Bad. As Our Precious Matthew Would Say: Oh, Well ^_^**

Back on Canadian soil and the first thing that greeted Matthew as he stepped into his home was the heavy odour of stale vodka and beer and cigarette smoke. He wriggled his nose, it was going to take a while to get the smell out but at least he was back home.

**END **

**So don't kill me. I realize how pathetically short this is but I was in a sort of rush. And it turns out that I added French in there. Smile ****. I can go to bed now! Thanks guys, I appreciate it and no amount of typing will make you understand. **

_Ou pas – _Or no

_Non _– No

_Mon amis _– My Friend

_Au revoir _– Good bye

_S'il vous plaits _– Please 


End file.
